“Sorry.” I fake a smile, reminding myself that I do live with other people and can’t always get lost in my thoughts. “Spaced out for a sec.”
“Did you hear me tell you that this is not how we do college?”
“This is totally how I do college,” I tell her, laughing. “I may take it all the way to the top in an hour or so and order a pizza.”
Melanie shakes her head and takes a seat on my bed, propping herself up amongst the mountain of pillows piled at the foot of it. Picking up my used copy ofSense and Sensibility, she laughs. “You really seem to have the hang of this whole studying thing.”
“Ugh. Why did I ever agree to this class? It's killing my soul. I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I did not think it would be this hard. Jane and her people are killing me slowly.”
“I do not envy you at all. Can’t you just watch the movies?”
“Oh, I am, trust me. But that’s just part of it. I still need to read. I have a five-page paper due next week where I have to analyze character motivation through diction.”
“The fuck does that even mean?”
“Hell if I know. Ugh. So, I’m taking a break and painting my toes while enjoying ramen. And then, back to work.”
“Uh, I thought you were ordering pizza?”
“I am. Ramen is my appetizer.”
Mel looks less than impressed with my plans for the evening. “Yea, no. Get your ass in the shower. We’re leaving in 30.”
“What? Where are we going? Does Ian have a TA friend who’s studying British Lit? Are we storming his apartment for the secrets of early nineteenth century characterization and diction?”
“Hell, no.” She nearly shudders. “We’re going out.”
I freeze. “Melanie, I’m not really--I’m definitely a stay-at-home kind of gal.”
“I know, I know. You said parties aren’t your scene and I totally respect that. A couple of friends from the dorm last year have a house off campus. We’re just hanging out--nothing crazy, I promise. It’s a Wednesday night, Phoebe. I promise we’re not getting wild.”
I’m hesitant, but I don’t want to be that basket case of a girl--the one who can’t stand the sight of alcohol and who rejects a gathering of three or more people for fear it might magically turn into a kegger. But I also don’t want to go.
“I really should study,” I say, hoping she’ll take the bait.
“Yea, looked like you were doing some serious studying there, what with your nail polish and all...Seriously, Phoebe, come with. We’ll hang for an hour or two, and then come back here. I’ll crash because I’m a cheap date and three glasses of box wine put me to sleep like a damn baby. You can come back here to Edward and Elinor.”
“Look at you, name-dropping!”
“Don’t be shocked. I watched the movie. It’s a good story, but Hugh Grant should have gone shirtless.”
“I’ll be sure to note that in my paper,” I joke.
“Make sure you give me proper credit. But for now, hop in the shower. I’ll find you something cute to wear.”
“I thought we were just hanging out with your friends?”
“We are. But it’s not a damn pajama party, so you have to wear clothes with buttons.”
I roll my eyes in defiance. “Fine, but there better be food.”
“Eh, maybe, maybe not. But there will be wine. And I’ll treat you to pizza when we get back. Deal?”
“Deal,” I say, feeling like a grown up who’s not letting her fears rule her actions. Because I can do this. It’s not a frat party--just a gathering of friends. And I came here to experience life, to start living it again. Sometimes that feels like a betrayal, but other times, it’s so damn tempting just to feel like a normal person. I touch the medallion around my neck, take a deep breath, and get ready to shower.
***
Turns out, I should have listened to my gut.
